


Long Distance

by kenporusty



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 03:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenporusty/pseuds/kenporusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the label. Phone sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance

**Author's Note:**

> -insert the usual warnings about this not meaning any character defamation. I don't know these people, and I don't presume to know them, etc, etc-

“Richard,” Dean’s voice was thick over the phone, crackling slightly.

“Dean,” Richard panted his voice a thick burr. “Are you thinking about it? My fingers fucking into you, my other hand stroking that pretty cock of yours?”

Dean was thankful for the Bluetooth as he shifted on the sofa of his apartment, eyes closed, lost in Richard’s voice, palming his cock through his shorts. He was painfully hard and he longed for the hand touching himself to be Richard’s and not his own.

Dean hummed, “mmm, yes, I love your hand wrapped around me, stroking me so slowly as I rock back on your fingers. Peg me with those fingers, Richard,” Dean affected a slight whine to his voice, begging.

The time zone difference was going to kill him.

If not having Richard in his life didn’t kill him first.

Or make-up on set. It was five in the morning, Dean had barely slept, and he had another long day of Almighty Johnsons shooting in three hours. But he wanted to catch Richard in the afternoon his time.

His fingers deftly pulled his cock from his shorts are Richard continued.

Richard’s end rustled and clunked and he sighed deeply. He just did the same as Dean, making Dean smile.

“Are you stroking yourself, Richard? So hard you can’t stand it? Do you want my mouth around your cock? Want me to swallow you deep until you feel the head of your cock hit the back of my throat?”

A deep groan from the other end.

“God, fuck, yes, Dean. I want you to suck my cock until I almost come. Then I’m going to fuck you until we both can’t see straight.”

Richard was kind of shit at this, but his voice made up for everything.

Dean took a shuddering breath, calming his hand. Coming so soon would be regrettable.

“I want you to bend me in half and fuck me hard. Skin on skin, press my thighs to my chest, I know you like how tight my ass gets when you do that. I love how full you make me feel, I want to see the stars as you fuck me, hit my prostate; you know what makes me come apart. I know you love the sound of my cock slapping my stomach as you fuck me as hard as you can. I want to hear that groan you make when you come. Will you come for me, Richard?”

Dean knew his voice did to Richard what his voice did to him, especially when it was low and husky.

“God, Dean…” Richard moaned deeply.

“Go ahead, Richard, let me hear you.”

Richard’s breath was slow, shallow. Dean could hear it hitch as he jerked himself off over the phone. Dean’s breath matched Richards, making small moans as they both just listened to one another. Richard mumbled Dean’s name and sweet endearments, growling as his orgasm approached.

“Are you fucking yourself on your fingers while you play with yourself?” Dean asked quietly.

The question served the purpose. Richard groaned loudly, Dean’s name caught and drawn out. Richard was coming on the other end, he heard the distinctive pants, and as he fumbled for the towel he used to catch the mess.

“Fuck, Richard,” Dean groaned, chasing Richard’s orgasm with his own. He threw himself against the back of his chair, back bowing as he painted his own chest and hand with sticky, white ropes.

“Thank you, Dean,” Richard’s breath evened out, his voice no longer as husky.

“It’s not Skype, but it’s better than nothing.” Dean laughed a little self-consciously, bending over to find the tissue box to clean up.

“I should go; you should nap a little more before shooting.”

“There’s a pun in there somewhere, but I’m too lazy to point it out.” Dean found the tissues and began wiping himself down. “Actually I should shower and meet some of the boys for breakfast.”

“How long is it until pickups again?” Richard’s voice was quiet.

“Too long, way too long,” Dean frowned.

“You won’t walk for the first week.” Richard promised. “Get going, I love you.”

“Love you too, and miss you, Richard.” Dean’s voice caught.

“G’bye.” Richard hesitated and then his line went dead. Dean ended the call, pulled the Bluetooth off, and stared at the screen.

Richard’s smiling face, his hair longer than during filming, greeted him. He felt sappy but he smiled back at the screen and hugged it to his chest before getting up for a shower and some coffee.


End file.
